


The Good, the Bad, and the Beautiful

by kusunogatari



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Attempted Sexual Assault, Blood and Gore, Death, Drug Use, F/M, Gen, Guns, NSFW, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Swearing, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-28 15:36:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19397119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kusunogatari/pseuds/kusunogatari
Summary: After their sweeping into a rather rushed romance, Obito has to balance the violence of his criminal life and protecting the civilian he's come to care for. But no matter his good intentions or care...there's no avoiding her being exposed to the darker sides of his life. Is he willing to set aside her safety for his selfishness? Even if it costs her everything?





	The Good, the Bad, and the Beautiful

Never did she think one weekend could be so…well, _exciting_.

And not entirely in good ways.

In less than forty–eight hours, she went from simply walking her way to work, to meeting up (rather awkwardly, given their setting in a _strip club_ ) with the last person she expected to run into: the guy she patched up at the clinic, and who’d been nothing but sweet to her. Their talk led to meeting after her shift, to going back to his apartment…to _fleeing a rival gang_ and nearly getting shot.

That doesn’t even cover her dragging him back to her place to hide, discovering his pain med addiction stemming from his back injuries, and then…well…waking up the next morning only to tumble headfirst into sleeping with him.

And somehow, she made it through everything without a panic attack. A miracle, really. She even made breakfast after they showered (together…), and things almost got to feel normal again.

But Ryū knows well enough…there probably won’t be any going back to normal, now. Not if she’s going to keep someone like Obito in her life, let alone so…intimately.

The day after it all – Sunday – she decides to just…do her best to absorb everything that happened. Cradling a mug of tea, she bows her forehead against it, elbows braced atop her table and eyes closed.

It feels like she should be more panicked than this. More…upset. Worried. Though while she _is_ worried, it’s mostly just for Obito. Wondering if he’s safe or not. She hasn’t heard from him since yesterday, and…well, given how volatile she knows his life to be now, she’s probably never going to be able to fully relax unless he’s here where she can keep an eye on him.

But even now, she’s…conflicted.

She likes him. A _lot_. Which…is all the more evident given how quickly she let him get so close, despite being rather adverse to the idea of opening up for most of her life. In all honesty, Ryū is a bit of a recluse. She gets up, goes to work, comes home…and that’s it. Runs errands, hangs out at local places, but…typically alone.

There’s hardly even anyone in the clinic she can call a friend.

Her second job, surprisingly, feels a bit more…connected. Most of the dancers are there for the same reasons: the pay is good, and it feels like one of their last options. There’s a strange kind of unity there…though she’s still not sure if she’d count any of them as companions outside the club. But, either way…as unorthodox as it might be, Ryū’s really come to enjoy it. Her stage persona, though not really _her_ in many ways, is fun to act out. It’s nice to be confident, sexy, and alluring…when in reality she knows she’s not.

_“I…I know what it’s like to live a double life.”_

…maybe they’re more alike than she likes to believe. Sure, she doesn’t kill people. But Ryū has a mask, too. According to some moral codes, she’s sinful, destined to burn with murderers and the like, anyway.

…but even if some people might look down on it…she enjoys it. And somehow can’t bring herself to feel any shame for it.

Eyes opening slowly, she peers down at the woodgrain of her table. Sure, she worries what would happen to her primary job if they found out…but in all reality, she makes more in her shorter shifts at the club than she does in the clinic. If they fired her, she’d just take more nights dancing, and make a killing.

In fact…she’s prepared to do as much. Just in case.

It helps she looks so _exotic_. White men love their Asian women. Add in her unique appearance, and she’s been shaping up to be the most requested dancer there. And it’s only been a few months since she started.

As much as she loves her clinic work – loves helping people…like she did with Obito – it’s not what’s keeping her afloat despite her student loans. All she wanted was to follow in her mother’s footsteps…

…what would her mother think of her now…?

In spite of herself, tears bead along her lids, falling without blinking to shatter along the tabletop. But she doesn’t sob, doesn’t hiccup…just sits in the quiet, breath calm, eyes alone betraying the sorrow she still feels after all this time.

… _she’d still be proud of you. You got through school. You’re doing good work…and you’re doing what you have to. She didn’t judge. Didn’t draw lines. Worked on anyone, any time, anywhere…it didn’t matter._

… _even if that’s what got her killed, in the end._

Finally shifting her posture, Ryū sits up with a harsh swallow and a shaking sigh, a hand sparing from her lukewarm mug to wipe at her eyes. Reika never backed down…never gave up. Even as a single mother working in the ER in the heart of a crime–ridden city. She was a hero, even if only to Ryū.

She died protecting her ideals, and her daughter.

She wouldn’t be ashamed of Ryū for doing the same, no matter the lengths it took.

And even as she tells herself this in a ditch effort to make herself feel better…Ryū also knows she’s right. She’s not just making this up to justify herself. Reika _would_ understand.

…of course, she’d also fight tooth and nail to keep Ryū from needing such resorts.

Glancing to her tea, she sighs. It’s far too cold to enjoy now…and the micro will only make it taste funny.

Time to dump out what’s lost, and make another cup.

* * *

Several blocks away and a few hours later, Obito finally drags himself home.

What a fucking day.

Slinging his pack by the door in disgust, he tears off his mask and glowers at nothing. It’s been a hellish twenty–four hours, and he’s in the foulest mood he’s been in for quite some time.

And that’s saying something.

The stolen package was his top priority once leaving Ryū’s the previous morning. Meeting with the others, he’d organized a plan to attempt to retrieve it. There might’ve still been time to _correct_ this little…mistake.

But that was not to be.

After spending nearly the whole night tracking down goons from the other gang that stole it, Obito and Kisame were told (and after rather…foolproof methods – they couldn’t have been lying) that it had already been sold off. And they didn’t know to whom.

Which meant, in essence, it was pretty much lost.

So now the feud is still on so long as the jilted gang feels cheated. There’ll have to be recompense some way or another. Either that, or Obito’s side can try to fight back. Not entirely advisable, given the difference in numbers. His allies are skilled, but…they’re also mortal. It’d take a lot to fight them off until they deemed the effort too costly and back down.

If only he’d gotten back to it sooner…maybe they wouldn’t have lost the package. He wasted precious time, and now it’s going to cost all of them…!

…and yet…

How long has it been since Obito actually _felt_ something other than the rush of a fight? How long since he’s smiled at something that wasn’t a business deal or a new delivery from Zetsu? Has he even ever _had_ what he had this past weekend?

Is it not worth the trouble…?

Abandoning the door, he steps in and finds the place empty. Seems Tenebris hasn’t returned yet…a little odd. At least nothing seems too terribly out of place. Apparently those that came looking for him never found the proper apartment, or it’d be ransacked. Idiots.

Sighing, Obito sets his mask atop the table and takes a seat to think. So far, nothing else has been lost. Everyone got out just fine – in fact, he and Ryū had the closest call. Everyone’s shuffled to different safe houses, and Obito knows he should do the same…but he wanted to check on his cat.

Part of him wonders if he should… _re–home_ her.

But that’s neither here nor there for the moment.

He braces his chin in a hand. He’s still surprised how well Ryū handled herself. Part of it, he assumes, was shock. But it seems there’s something she’s not told him. Call it a gut feeling.

But is she really suited for dragging into a lifestyle like his…? If she gets hurt, he’ll…well, he doesn’t even know what he’ll do. But whoever dares won’t live long enough to try again.

She’s…a distraction. In both good ways and bad. He can’t be losing his focus like this – not when it costs the others. He’s not _that_ irresponsible. But he already knows there won’t be any keeping himself away from her. If she even wants him to come back…

No. She does – she does! She was so kind to him, so tender…not like anyone else he’s ever tried shacking up with. It’s clear she actually cares about him, even if parts of her seem a little…nervous. She just needs time to adjust. That’s all!

…she won’t leave…

…she _can’t_ …

Sighing, he rubs a hand down his face. For now, he needs a few hours of sleep. Even he can’t run without it forever, and the night’s catching up with him. A short nap, then maybe look for Tenebris. Then…disappear for a few days. To plan…and to think.

* * *

“You want me to what?”

“It took three days for her to come back – three days! I can’t have that happen again. What if she gets hurt?”

Gesturing despite talking on the phone, Ryū offers, “Obito, slow down…are you saying you want Tenebris to live _here_ …?”

“Yes!”

“But…I haven’t paid a pet deposit!”

“Is your landlord allergic?”

“…no?”

“Then they’ll never notice!”

The nurse sighs, planting her spare palm against her brow. “…I’ll just…tell her I’m adopting from a friend moving out of town, and pay the deposit.”

“But –!”

“It’s fine, Obito – I want her to be safe, too.” After a small pause, she softens. “…and I want _you_ to be safe…”

It’s his turn to be quiet for a moment. “…I can’t stay. If trouble came looking, I’d –”

“I know, I know…” Ryū cradles the phone closer to her face, as though doing so would let her reach through and touch him. “…just…be careful.”

“…look, I’ll pay the deposit.”

“Obito –”

“She’s my cat! No arguing!”

Lips pout, though he can’t see it. “Oh, _fine_. I’ll talk to her about it and get the amount – I…don’t actually know how much it’ll be…”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s fine.”

“…all right.”

One two–hundred dollar deposit later, Obito brings the black cat over one evening, trying to be inconspicuous. Light green eyes are almost swallowed by black pupils, wide and clearly scared.

“Hey Tenebris,” Ryū greets softly. “Remember me? Though…well, I guess we didn’t meet, officially. You’re gonna stay with me for a little while, okay? Just until things calm down.”

Technically, though, there’s no way of knowing when that will be.

They open the carrier door in the belly of the apartment, and the feline barely sticks her nose out, sniffing the air suspiciously.

“Doesn’t smell like home, huh?” Ryū asks.

“If anything, that might be a good thing,” is Obito’s retort, given alongside a pout.

“I _mean_ that it’s unfamiliar. Your apartment doesn’t stink!”

“Well it doesn’t smell _nice_ , either. Yours does.”

“That cuz I use incense.”

While they’re distracted, Tenebris zips across the room and…dives under the couch.

The pair of them stare, then glance to each other. “…well…at least she’s out…?”

Next Obito brings up the first batch of supplies, including food, bowls, and even litter and a box. “I could have gotten all that,” Ryū insists.

“I already had it.”

They spend the evening trying to coax her out, and eventually Tenebris submits and sneaks into the open, lured by a few cat toys Ryū picked up the day before. By the time Obito prepares to leave, she’s nestled over her shoulders and peering out coyly past the waves of her hair.

“Looks like you’ll get along,” he notes, scratching the feline’s ears.

“We’ll be fine. I’ll text you pictures.”

Obito gives a somber smile. “…watch over things, eh?”

Tenebris responds with an affirmative purr.

“Any time you want to see her, you’re more than welcome to pop by. Even if I’m not home.”

“Nah, I’d rather wait ‘til both my girls are here.”

In spite of herself, Ryū goes pink, pecking him back as he swoops in. “…be safe.”

“Will do.”

* * *

With a spare key in his inventory, Obito _does_ make the occasional pit stop in without any warning. And sometimes, they _are_ when Ryū isn’t home. The reasons are random: sometimes he’s bored, or maybe hiding out…other times he misses Tenebris, and sometimes he just…likes being there. While it’s even better when Ryū’s around, there’s still a sort of…peace to it when it’s just him.

He feels a _little_ invasive, but…well, she _did_ give him the key, and blatant verbal permission. Even now he knows part of her would rather he just come here and _stay_ here, but…that’s not safe.

Not for her.

And right now, what matters most is her safety. She’s still adjusting to… _all of this_. He’s been living it for years. If anyone can handle a little brawling and murder on a Tuesday night, it’s him.

Sure, it was nice – in a way – when they had their little adventure. But it’s clear she’s not entirely built for this. Between her nature and her lack of experience…as much as he’d like to go gallivanting across the city with her, it’s just not safe.

Making his way in one afternoon, he’s greeted by Tenebris chirping from the couch, lazing atop it and squinting at him.

“Someone’s right at home,” he mutters. “Spoiled!”

She just flops back over and twitches the tip of her tail.

Not entirely knowing what to do with himself, Obito takes to wandering and just…examining things. She doesn’t have much in way of knickknacks. Not even very many photos. Which…is a little strange. She has a collection of feathers in a vase, and some pressed flowers hanging in glass on one wall. There’s books _everywhere_ , mostly dealing with medicine. And there’s her little incense burner, which keeps the place smelling warm and cozy. Near it is one of the few photos she has: a little girl, no more than four, seated on the lap of a woman. She’s giving the camera a stern look, appearing to be fighting against a smile. Ryū – for that’s undoubtedly who the child is – was in the midst of a giggle fit when the picture was snapped.

That must be her mother…

Then who took the picture?

Before he can contemplate it much further, there’s the sound of a key in the lock, and he reflexively spins around. But it’s only Ryū, still dressed in her nurse scrubs and shuffling in, managing to shut the door behind her before collapsing back against it with a sigh. There’s dark circles under her eyes, and Obito’s brow furrows.

“…you all right?”

Glancing up, she looks to him dazedly before her exhaustion catches up with her, and she slumps to the floor.

“Oi!” Making short work of scooping her up, Obito finds her passed out. Muttering French obscenities under his breath, he hauls her back through her bedroom door, arranging her atop the bed and feeling a bit helpless. What else can he do?

Dragging in a chair from the other room, he plants himself on it and just…waits. Elbows brace on his knees, fingers woven as he leans against them.

She is _not_ going to work tomorrow.

It takes about half an hour for her to rouse, clearly still exhausted but no longer unconscious. “…’bito…?”

“The hell was all that?”

She blinks blearily at him.

“You _passed out!_ ”

“Oh…”

“Oh? That’s it? What if I wasn’t here?”

“Woulda slept on the floor, I guess.”

He stares at her incredulously. “…you’re staying home tomorrow.”

“But –!”

“You can’t work like this! What if you make a mistake and hurt someone?”

Though she bristles at first, his question quickly deflates her. She knows he’s right. “…I’ll…call in sick.”

“Good.” Still watching her suspiciously, he adds, “I’m staying until I make sure you rest.”

“Aren’t you busy?”

“Not busy enough to stop me.”

Blinking slowly, Ryū then gives a soft smile. “…okay.”

Making her tea (without sugar – and he ignores the face she makes until she drinks it), he shoos her out of the kitchen and instead orders takeout. He’s not the best cook, so…it’s a compromise. All the while he watches her with squinted eyes. “Why are you so tired?”

“Long day.”

“It takes more than one long day to pass out like that!”

Ryū avoids his gaze. “I didn’t sleep very well last night.”

“…and the night before?”

No reply.

“Ryū…”

“I’ll be fine. Just been having some weird dreams. They’ll pass.”

“Nightmares?” He sighs as she avoids the question. “Can you…talk to someone about it? Call a friend? A relative?”

“…no.”

“No?”

“I don’t really…have any relatives. My mom died when I was young. No idea who my dad was…or is. And I don’t…” She shifts a bit. “…I’ve never been a very _social_ person outside work. I don’t think anyone there would want to hear it…”

“What about me?” He gives the prod a bit reflexively, but…well, maybe her being tired will mean being a bit more open. In reality, he knows so little about her…

Finally, Ryū glances up from her food. “…it’s just memories of when my mom died.”

“You saw it?”

“…mhm.”

“Was it…bad?”

Ryū goes silent again for a time, but Obito can tell she’s gathering her thoughts. “…my mother…was an ER nurse. She saw horrible things…the worst this city can offer. And she knew it wasn’t enough. She’d work under the radar – take care of gang members outside the hospital so they wouldn’t be reported. Spent her own money on them. I can…vaguely remember some of them showing up, looking for help. For most of them, she was a saint…someone untouchable. She helped all sides, so…they had a sort of unspoken rule that she was off–limits.

“…but not everyone saw it that way.

“It was so…quick. Someone knocked. She opened the door. I remember…I was hiding around the corner – she told me to just in case, every time. And just…” There’s a faraway look in her eyes. “…one bullet. Muffled with a silencer. Right between her eyes. Instant death. And then they left. All I remember was the police saying she’d helped the wrong person…someone got mad, and took her out because of it. They never did find who was directly responsible.”

Ryū’s hands swirl her tea, eyes as dark as the circles under them. “…I was put in foster care. No other relatives. No one knew who my father was. No one came forward. I bounced around a few places, changed schools a lot…it was hard to keep up. But I had to. I wanted to be a nurse like Mom. I, uh…” She gives a small, humorless huff of a laugh. “I was so focused, I…wasn’t too good at making friends. Didn’t help I wasn’t in one place for very long. And mostly I just got teased for my looks. Hence the whole ‘can’t call a friend’ thing earlier. I just…don’t have anyone.” Her shoulders shrug.

“…so now here I am, ending up the same as my mom. Running around with gang members.” Ryū gives Obito a smile loopy with exhaustion. “….’cept, uh…I don’t think she slept with any of them,” she snickers. “…guess you’re a special case that way…”

All the while, Obito watches her with an expression of mild shock. He…hadn’t planned on hearing her whole backstory. But she’s just uncensored enough to speak, and just awake enough not to slur it. He…hadn’t expected any of that. After all that…how is she so kind? So soft? Of course, not everyone takes their trauma and… _vents_ it like he does. She just…turned it into something else.

But no friends…? Even he has friends! Zetsu, Kisame, Pein…how can someone like her not have friends?

…well…then again…people with kindness like hers tend to get used. Not befriended.

Still, he manages a halfhearted chuckle at her last quip before quieting. “…lucky me,” he murmurs.

Well, now he knows the reason behind her seeming so desensitized to what she saw that night. Maybe she doesn’t consciously remember it all, but she saw gore and wounds like that when young. Just not in the thick of it. It explains why she didn’t panic. Not as much as she would have otherwise, at least.

“…sorry, I…kinda unloaded on you there,” she offers in the subsequent silence.

“No, no…I’m glad to know it. Er…I’m not glad to know what you went through – it wasn’t good! I just, I mean…” Ah, he’s fucking this up.

Ryū just laughs. “I know what you mean. Maybe someday I’ll unlock your tragic backstory, huh?”

“I’m sure you will.”

* * *

After that, almost a week passes with no word from Obito. Which…is strange. Even small texts go completely unanswered. Did he…lose his phone? Is he busy? Or is it as she’s feared, and something’s happened to him?

For a while, Ryū insists she shouldn’t panic. Acting rashly might actually be dangerous for both of them. But when they pass a week without a word, she decides to do something.

Going in broad daylight and keeping her favorite knife folded in her hand within her coat pocket, Ryū navigates her way as best she can remember back to Obito’s apartment building. It takes a while, but eventually she finds the correct address. A few people eye her funny, but she feigns confidence and struts up to the entrance, yanking it open and heading inside.

The same graffiti lingers on his door, and her nose wrinkles a bit before knocking. “…Obito?”

No answer.

Brow furrowing a bit, she knocks again, a bit more forcefully. “Are you home?”

Something makes a muffled thump.

Perking up, she tries the door, and…actually finds it unlocked. A red flag raises. Grip tight on her knife, Ryū pushes it open further, glancing inside.

A groan then sounds, and she startles as something – someone? – moves at the foot of the couch. It…looks like Obito? That must have been what she heard: he’s tumbled to the floor. She calls his name again, and hears another groan.

She’ll take that as an answer.

Moving in and shutting the door, Ryū crouches beside him, helping him sit up. “Obito, are you…okay?”

Rather than answer…he vomits.

Thankfully she’s used to people nearly barfing on her, and she dodges with a nurse’s expertise. “Are you sick? Can I…look you over?”

He just sighs, and Ryū takes that as permission. Careful hands start poking and prodding. Lifting his drooping lids, she finds dilated pupils. Goose flesh is raised over his arms when she pulls back his sleeves despite the temperature being quite warm in his apartment.. And when he doubles over clenching his gut with a moan of pain, she’s pretty much convinced:

He’s having withdrawals. Which would explain why he’s not been too communicative. He’s clearly been too sick and miserable to worry about something like talking to her.

“Obito, you need to tell me what’s going on. How long has it been since you last had a dose of oxycodone?”

Catching his breath from both his stomach pain and vomiting, Obito leans back with a harsh swallow. “…uh…a f–few days…? I don’t…I don’t know…”

“Are you trying to quit?”

There’s a flash of shame over his features before admitting, “…no. Zetsu…supplier…got arrested…haven’t had another way to get a–ahold of it.”

Ryū’s lips purse in thought. She can’t get him the drugs – she doesn’t have the clearance. She briefly considers just…taking him to rehab now, but that’s his decision, not hers.

But before she can consider the options further, there’s a knock at the door. “Boss?”

She can’t help but tense, though Obito waves her reaction aside. “S’unlocked,” Obito slurs, head lolling back against the couch.

The entrance opens, and a man of enormous stature walks in. Well over six feet tall, muscled, and sporting…blue hair? He’s wearing a tank top and sweats, which bares his (huge!) arms and all their tattooed glory. Just at a glance, Ryū can see a very prominent shark theme in both sleeves of art. Some ink even peers up over his shirt’s collar. Dark eyes flit to her as he steps in, stopping in surprise.

“She’s fine.”

The stranger’s gaze then glances to Obito, and his face alights with understanding. “Oh…this your dame, boss?”

Obito makes a face at the old–time phrase, but nods. A slight dusting of pink alights his cheeks to match Ryū’s. “She’s a nurse…been looking me over.”

“Well, I got just what you need, boss.” Crossing the room in two strides, he takes a knee on Obito’s other side. From a pocket comes a bottle of pills.

Like a shot, Obito’s arm reaches and snags it, unscrewing the lid and popping a tablet with a hum of whining relief.

“C’mon, boss…let’s get you into bed for a rest, shall we?” With hardly a lick of effort, the gangster simply scoops Obito up and carries him into the other room.

Ryū can do little more than watch.

A minute passes before he comes back, shutting the door. “There…he just needs some sleep. Should be fine.”

She wants to protest, but can’t bring herself to speak.

“So, uh…” A hand itches the back of his neck awkwardly. “You’re the lady that’s got Tobi so love struck, eh?”

Ryū fidgets her hands at her front nervously. Tobi…that’s his nickname, right? “I…I guess so.”

“Ah, you’ve got nothing to worry about from me, little lady.” He gives her a grin, and Ryū’s eyes go wide as it reveals cosmetically–sharpened teeth. “I’m a pal of Tobi’s – I think it’s good he finally found himself a lady friend. Poor guy’s been through the wringer more times than I can count. Seems he likes you a lot. And given you dragged yourself here to check on him, I’ll wager you feel the same.”

Embarrassed to be talking about all this with someone she doesn’t know, Ryū ducks her head shyly. “I…I–I do.”

“Ah hell, where are my manners?” He holds out a hand. “Kisame. Hoshigaki.”

“Ryū. Suigin.” Taking his sturdy grip, she does her best to match it.

He laughs, giving a shake. “Glad t’see you don’t have dainty hold – that wouldn’t do, now would it?”

In spite of herself, Ryū can’t help a smile. This Kisame fellow is charming! And while he’s definitely built to bash skulls, he seems the teddy bear type otherwise. She’s always considered herself a decent judge of character, and he seems like a good guy. “I guess not!”

“Have to say, I’m glad to finally meet ya. He’s tried not to talk too much, but –” Kisame nods back toward Obito’s door, “– he lets things slip often enough, it’s made me curious. I can see why he likes you. Seems you’re a sweet little thing”

Her blush gets a little darker. He’s been talking about her? “I, er…I try to be.”

That earns a chuckle. “Well, if you’d like to stay, you’re more than welcome. I’ve got other duties to tend to, or I’d stick around to make sure he gets up later. But I think you’ve got that covered, little lady. He’d probably be happier to see you when he wakes up, anyway.”

Ryū stifles a small giggle into a hand. “Well…I’m happy to see he’s got a friend like you. Thank you for getting him his medicine, Kisame…and for helping get him to bed. It would have taken me half the day to drag him in there!”

Something in Kisame’s face slackens in surprise at her comment, but he’s soon smiling again. He seems fond of doing that. And given his _interesting_ teeth, she feels she knows why. “Any time, little boss lady.”

“E–eh?!”

Laughing out loud, he can’t help but ruffle her hair on his way by. “Tell Tobi I’ll talk to him this evening – we’ve got much to discuss. But in the meantime, I’m sure he’d be fine with some TLC.”

Blinking, she gives a small nod and a wave as he takes his leave. “…thank you!”

Once the apartment is quiet again, Ryū glances to the bedroom door. She doesn’t want to intrude, but…well, surely he won’t mind, right? Peeking in, she sees him asleep, and sneaks in to check on him. He’s already slack, mouth agape and snoring lightly. She has to stifle a laugh, not wanting to wake him. He’s adorable. Sitting along the edge of the mattress, she spares a hand to run fingers through his hair gently.

His brow twitches, heaving a sigh and smacking his lips before smiling.

Ryū just gives a small shake of her head. “What am I going to do with you…?”

* * *

“Hey…can I try something?”

“Uh…” Obito glances over from his position at the counter drying Ryū’s cleaned dishes. “…sure?”

“It’s nothing bad, I promise.”

Once their hands are dry, she leads him to the living room. “Sit here on the floor.”

A dark brow perks, but he acquiesces.

Crossing her legs, Ryū sits behind him. “Hm…mind taking your shirt off?”

Obito gives her an incredulous look over his shoulder. “What?”

“Just trust me!”

Still looking suspicious, there’s a pause…and then he pulls the garment up over his head. “…what are you up to?”

“You’ll see.” Examining him for a moment, Ryū gently brushes fingers over the scarred skin of his right side and earns an involuntary shiver. “Sorry…are my hands cold?”

“No…”

Hearing the apprehension in his voice, she glances up before getting to work. Carefully, she starts feeling the muscles beneath the scar tissue. “…I talked to another nurse – one who works more with physical therapy. I described your condition and asked if there was anything I could do, and she suggested massage.”

Obito looks over his shoulder again. “Oh?”

“Don’t worry, I didn’t use your name – it was all hypothetical. It won’t cure your pain, but…it _could_ help ease some of it up. And…obviously an attack is too severe to stop with it. But I thought that, maybe if I did it often enough, it could…help lighten your dependency on the medication. It’s not a replacement, of course. More just like…a supplementary thing.”

Considering that, Obito hums.

“I know you were unsure about physical therapy, so…I thought this would be a happy medium. No one sees you but me.”

Ever so slightly, he wilts. “…yeah.”

Slowing to a stop, there’s a pause. “…I – did I say something wrong?”

“No, no…I just…” He goes quiet, and Ryū lets him think. “…I don’t like people seeing me this way. It’s ugly.”

Ryū’s brow quickly furrows. “…Obito, you aren’t ugly.”

“I –”

“Please, let me finish.” There’s a pause, and when another interruption isn’t forthcoming, Ryū goes on. “Your scars aren’t who you are. Sure, people who are shallow will judge you for them. But that doesn’t make you ugly.”

As if to accentuate her point, Ryū goes back to her work, trying to help him relax. “People have always stared at me, and most in rather…intrusive ways. And for a long time, yes, it bothered me. Kids were so mean about it…and adults were rude. But the best way to take away a person’s power to hurt you is to disarm them. Yes, I look different. But if I accept that just as a fact – neither positive, nor negative – it doesn’t have any weight anymore.”

Softening, she shifts her touches. Fingertips skim over the marred skin, and she leans in to press kisses to the top of his shoulder. Each hand pays equal mind to each side of him: rough and smooth alike, feeling goose bumps raise at her attentions. This might not be getting her massaging done…but for now, she needs to try to counteract some of Obito’s self-consciousness.

She wants him to see himself as _she_ sees him: beautiful.

“And now…? That uniqueness about myself serves _me_. People find it fascinating, and I use that to my advantage. If they’re willing to buy, I’m willing to sell. But I rule myself, and my appearance, and my perceptions. I give only what I’m willing to give. They can look, but they can’t have…they can’t take.”

Her left hand lifts to skim through his hair, and Obito leans his head back into her touch with a groan. Her right reaches around his marred side, gently scratching at his chest as she plants more open–mouthed kisses against his bare skin.

“You don’t owe anyone explanations, your time, your attention. You _survived_ …and you are _strong_ …their words or staring or judgments can’t make you weak. Your body fought steel and iron, and it _won_. It didn’t do so cleanly…but your scars are a trophy. They say, “I’m alive”. And there’s nothing stronger than that. Nothing more beautiful.”

With a gentle tug, she urges him to lean back against her, head reclined on her chest and letting her kiss his brow. Both hands skim over his chest and abdomen, seeing his length strain against his trousers at her attentions.

“You can conquer their perceptions of you, Obito…and when you do…you’ll be even stronger. Nothing will be able to stand in your way. It doesn’t matter what anyone else says. Your body is unique, and powerful…”

Another guide of her hands, and she turns him, feeling his weight bear down on her as he leans into her touches. Hands cradle his face, a thumb brushing reverently across the ridges of his right side. Greys flicker between his eyes, trying to relay her conviction.

“It’s your choice how you use and present this body. Hide it away if you want…but you never have to hide it from me. Don’t wear that mask. Not with me. Let me show it the praise it deserves…”

Reaching an unspoken limit, Obito bends forward to steal a kiss before lifting them both from the floor, collapsing instead atop the couch with Ryū on top. True to her word, she wastes no time in bathing his skin in touches. Kisses scatter over his face, his chest, his torso. Fingers skim delicately over the scars as she murmurs further words of encouragement, tone breathless.

All the while, Obito lays back with closed eyes, panting and groaning as her attentions ebb and flow over him. As she makes another pass over his face, he finds grips in her hair, pulling her away from his cheek and instead melding their mouths. There’s hunger in hot breaths, hips subtly lifting upward as she lightly grinds against him. Any longer, and he’s going to lose his mind.

During a break for air, Ryū rummages in the end table, pulling out a condom. Obito perks a brow.

“I thought it best to be prepared,” she smiles against his mouth, eeping a bit as he renews his ravaging, moving instead to her neck and earning a half–laugh, half–moan. He starts pulling away her clothes, making quick work of her blouse and bra. A few more moments of grinding to stoke their fires before he moves to shimmy out of his pants. In the meantime, Ryū stands just long enough to do the same with her skirt and skivvies, tearing open the package with her teeth before rolling the latex down his weeping cock. Peering up at him mischievously, she straddles his waist, dragging her core atop him for a few strokes before helping him in.

They both moan in tandem as she sinks atop him, hips giving a testing wriggle before starting to sweep in long, slow strokes. Hands brace atop his shoulders, leaning in to kiss and nip at his throat.

With a grip on her backside, Obito can do little more than meet her thrusts, helping her deepen the movements and whimpering at her affections. Subconsciously, he leans his cheek against her as she touches him, feather–light. Together they flow in syncopated movements, breaths short and skin slick with sweat.

Keeping one hand buried in Obito’s hair, Ryū spares the other to tend to her clit, moaning softly at the combined sensations. She manages to peak first, giving a short cry as she twitches and shivers atop him, bowing her brow to the crook of his neck.

Obito then takes charge, hips driving like a piston up into her clenching heat and guiding her back down with his grip on her backside. All it takes is a few strokes into her tightening orgasm to reach his own, giving one last drive deep before a few smaller, ride–out thrusts follow to slow to a stop. The pair of them go slack, chests expanding in search of air.

Dragging herself out of her high, Ryū manages a few more presses of her lips to Obito’s jaw. “See…?” she murmurs, smiling against his skin. “…beautiful…”

In spite of himself, Obito manages a few soft chuckles. “…guess I can’t argue with that…”

After a few minutes to collect themselves, the pair retreat to the bathroom to clean up, still a bit handsy in the shower, but…more sensually than sexually. It ends with the two of them curled back up on the couch…clothed and calm, this time.

“…you know…you’re the first person who’s called me that.”

“Hm…?”

“Beautiful.”

Ryū glances up.

Obito’s gaze is a little distant. “…none of the women I’ve slept with have ever even given me a compliment…not a true one, at least. Just whatever it took to get me into bed with them. They never stayed. And, uh…” Color blooms across his face, glancing aside. “…none of the, uh…men…ever did, either.”

Ryū doesn’t even blink at the admission. “Well…they’re just shallow jerks, then. The lot of them. It’s fine to sleep with someone casually…so long as you’re safe, of course. But treating your partner so…nonchalantly seems rude.” There’s a frown, nose wrinkling. “…I guess I don’t know that conduct myself, but…still.”

Seeing she’s not going to judge him, Obito blinks before snorting. His grip on her squeezes for a moment. “…well…there’s no need to worry about it now, hm?”

“…no, there isn’t.” She nuzzles up into the crook of his neck, smiling as she feels the heat of his blush. “…I think…there won’t be any need to worry about it anymore…”

* * *

“Where are we going…?”

“You’ll see.”

Ryū gives Obito a suspicious glance as they walk down an unfamiliar sidewalk. It’s late afternoon, nearly evening. And all he told her was that they were going for a walk. But if Ryū knows anything, it’s that what Obito _says_ , and what Obito _means_ , aren’t always the same thing.

“Seriously, where are we going?”

“I need to meet up with a few cohorts. Thought I’d bring you along.”

Immediately, Ryū can’t help but tense a bit. “…o–oh?”

“You’ll be fine – no one’s going to bother you while I’m around. Kisame’s going to be there, too.”

Well, that makes her feel a little better. She liked Kisame. And not that she doubts Obito and his ability to keep her safe, but…he’s big. _Very_ big. She doubts anyone’s got the gall to mess with _him_. “So, uh…what do you need to meet them _about…_?”

“Just a bit of business. Thought it’d be a good opportunity to introduce you.”

Still unsure, Ryū subconsciously walks a little closer to him as they round a corner. Obito knocks on a thick metal door, which opens a small slat. Green eyes peer out, squint…and then the little window shuts.

“…uh –?”

With a loud creak, the door opens, and Ryū jumps a bit. Another hulking man stands in the doorway. But unlike Kisame, he does _not_ seem friendly.

“Boss,” a deep voice offers before glancing to her.

Ryū’s never felt so small.

“She’s with me,” Obito clarifies, and there’s a challenging look on his face.

The pair seem to converse silently through staring before the stranger shrugs. “Ain’t my business,” he mutters. “Just be sure she doesn’t swipe anything.”

“She’s not the type, Kakuzu, calm down. Damn penny pincher…” Scowling, Obito steps in and drags Ryū behind him. “That’s Kakuzu,” he explains once out of earshot. “He’s…like the group accountant. Doesn’t miss a cent.”

“He’s terrifying,” Ryū admits in a harsh whisper.

“So long as you don’t mess with his money, he’s got no reason to bother you.”

Not convinced, Ryū slowly realizes that there’s…music playing? “…uh…?”

“Boss!”

Following the sound, she perks up as she spies Kisame! And…someone else standing with him. Like Kisame, his hair is dyed, but a bright green. And there’s…a tattooed line down the center of his face, from brow to chin. Ryū can’t help a curious tilt of her head.

“Kisame. Zetsu,” Obito greets. “Everyone here?”

“Nah, not yet – Pein, Konan and Nagato haven’t shown up. Deidara and Sasori are out on a job, so they can’t come either.”

“Right, right…and Itachi?”

“He’s here, lurking somewhere.”

“Hn…” Obito almost scowls again, but Ryū decides not to ask. “And Hi–?”

“Heyyy! Fuck, there y’are!”

Obito lurches as someone latches an arm around his shoulders, nearly toppling the pair of them over. Ryū hops sideways toward Kisame, half–hiding behind him.

“Hidan, get _off_ me, I’m –!”

“Y’goddamn bastard, where y’been?” Shouting and clearly intoxicated, a man (he’s…not wearing a shirt?) grins widely and gives Obito’s hair a noogie. “Shit, it’s been weeks!”

“I’ve been _busy_ ,” Obito retorts, managing to wriggle out of the guy’s hold.

“Busy, huh…?” Hands plant on his hips, leaning forward and swaying precariously. “What _kind_ a’ busy, huh…?”

Obito ignores him. “Look, I need to find Itachi. I’ll be back in a few.”

“Yeah, yeah…little _family bonding time_ , eh boss? Just hurry it up, eh? Let’s get this party _started…_!”

“It’s clear you’ve _already_ started,” Kisame mutters, eyeing the newcomer cautiously.

Ryū, in the meantime, looks him over, not…quite sure what to make of him. Hidan, as he’s apparently called, has off–white hair slicked back, clearly bleached, and…rather poorly. His eyes are a shocking amethyst, which would be pretty in anyone else’s face, but just make him all the more odd to look at. A ropy scar seems to wind all the way around his neck. And a myriad of others litter the copious amount of bare skin he’s showing.

…there’s also what look to be plenty of bloodstains on his baggy pants. Pants which are threatening to fall off his hips…oh dear. This man needs a belt. And a shirt.

But before she can make note of any other details, his gaze shifts to her. “Hm…?” A brow perks. “…heyyy…I know you…”

“W–what?”

“I know I’ve seen you around before!” Stepping up and making her retreat further behind Kisame, Hidan chases her in a circle. “I don’t forget a face, babe. Helps yours is so…so…”

“Hidan,” Kisame warns.

Face pinching and eyes squinting in thought, the zealot stares at her for a long minute. “…oh! Shit! I know!” A hand snaps fingers, then points at her. “Sugar!”

Ryū balks.

“I _knew_ I knew you! You dance! At that club east side a’ town! Shiiit, babe! Gotta admit, kinda weird seeing ya with so much clothing on…”

“Hidan, that’s enough.” Reaching a limit, Kisame shoves the other man back a few paces…which results in him falling over completely. “This is the boss’s dame. A little respect’d be nice.”

Cackling as he somersaults over, Hidan just lies on the floor for the time being. “You kiddin’ me? The boss is shagging a _stripper_? T’ _fuck_? He’s always been shit at picking dance partners for the horizontal tango, but –”

Puffing up, Ryū stomps back out around from behind Kisame, and plants a foot on Hidan’s chest, making him exhale sharply. “Listen, you _jerk_. Yeah, I dance. But that’s got nothing to do with him. Call me names all you want, but you leave him out of this.”

Eyes wide, Hidan stares at her for a moment before bursting into another round of screeching laughs. “Shit sweetheart, I didn’t know you were a _dom_ , too! Spank me mommy, I’ve been a _bad boy_ –”

“Ugh, you’re so gross!”

“And you really think Obito gives a shit? C’mon now, sweetheart…he’s a gangster! Murderer! Druggie, lowlife, good–for–nothin’ –”

Ryū leans onto her raised foot, cutting him off with a grunt. “I said _shut up_!”

“C’mere, little lady boss.” With a simple scoop, Kisame lifts her under the arms off of Hidan, ignoring her squirming and calls to be put down. “You’re only encouraging him.”

Pausing in her wriggling, Ryū’s nose wrinkles as she sees a tent in Hidan’s baggy trousers. “Oh…fuck off!”

Rounding the corner just as Ryū goes off, Obito’s brows lift in surprise. He’s…never heard her swear like that before. Add in that she’s held aloft by Kisame, and Hidan’s sprawled on the floor, he simply asks, “…did I miss something?”

“I’m not sure this is such a good idea, boss,” Kisame advises, gently setting Ryū back on the floor. “Hidan’s being…well, Hidan.”

“Now what’s the little _heathen_ up to?”

The group all look up to see a trio of newcomers. One a man with ginger hair and a myriad of piercings; another a redhead that looks practically skeletal; and the last a woman with blue–dyed hair and shocking amber eyes. It’s she who spoke, giving Hidan a disgusted glance.

“Konaaan, hey! ‘Bout time you made it, eh? C’mere, give me a lil love, huh?”

“You’re a parasite, Hidan,” she replies, stepping over him and ignoring his attempts to grab her ankles. Pausing on her way by, she gives Ryū a long, appraising look, just a hair shorter than the nurse.

Getting the feeling she’s being judged, Ryū just…stares back.

“…Tobi, you really should be more careful,” she eventually sniffs, looking to Obito critically. “This isn’t a place for civilians, no matter their connection to you. If anything…that should deter you. You’re putting her in harm’s way.”

“I dunno, seems like she handled Hidan pretty well,” Kisame can’t help but joke, grinning with a snicker.

“Hidan’s also a bumbling, drunk moron who gets off on being abused. We really shouldn’t be investing in any more _liabilities_.”

“My _liabilities_ are _my_ business,” Obito growls, voice unusually low. “You just get your work done, and I’ll worry about the rest.”

Konan’s shoulders shrug. “You’re right. Just thought I’d give a friendly warning. Not that I care much what you do or don’t do in the end. It’d just be a shame for someone innocent to get caught in _your_ crossfire because _you’re_ feeling sentimental, Tobi. Take the girl home. Then we can talk business.”

“Tch…” Watching the trio head further in, Obito doesn’t have a retort.

Ryū glances to him warily. They aren’t calling him by his name, just like Kisame did before, at his apartment…she wonders if she should follow suit. “…look, I can head home if –”

“No. You’re fine. Just…wait out here for a bit. I’ll walk you home when I’m done.” With that, he stalks off after them. “Kisame, keep an eye on her.”

“…you got it.” He glances to Ryū, who glances back. “…sorry about that.”

“No, it…it’s fine. She has a point.” Still, Ryū can’t help a hint of a pout. She’s not a _girl_ …she’s a grown woman! While she’s perfectly capable of acknowledging her weaknesses, being called infantile seems a low blow.

By now, Hidan’s asleep on the floor, snoring loudly. Zetsu has disappeared, and Kakuzu remains posted by the door.

“We have a sort of lounge if you’d like to sit down and have a drink.”

“…sitting would be good. Drinking not so much. I want to keep my wits about me.”

Kisame takes her into another room. Though still obviously warehouse, it’s been framed with walls and actually done up a bit like an actual bar and lounge. Huh…she never would have guessed this was here. Nearby she spies the jukebox that’s playing the music she’s been hearing.

“Sometimes we have to hide out for a while, so…we figured we might as well add something to do,” he explains, seeing her curious gaze. “We even have a few arcade machines.”

“Ooh, really?”

He grins, showing her the cabinets. Sitting nearby, he keeps a subtle eye as Ryū sits atop a stool and passes the time with a slightly–glitchy Pac–Man game, sipping his beer as she curses the machine out whenever she loses.

An hour passes before anything changes. Kisame pauses at the sight of Obito coming back from the rear, and…looking tipsy. “…boss?”

“You can go…I got this. Deal’s managed, so…we’re gonna just…have ourselves a little break.”

“Are you drunk, boss?”

“Nahhh…” Leaning in conspiratorially, Obito then admits in a whisper, “…yes.”

“You can’t take the little boss lady home drunk – what if something –?”

“It’s fiiine. We’ll just hang out here for a bit. I just…needed to wash that bad taste out of my mouth,” Obito explains, making a gagging face. “ _Câlisse!_ I can’t stand that woman and her…her…!”

“Oh!” Finally noticing he’s back, Ryū swivels on her stool. “Are you…done?”

“Yeah, I’m done! But uh…we’re gonna hang out here for a while, m’kay?”

“Uh…okay.” Perking a brow, Ryū hops of her seat. “…are you drunk?”

“Nooo…yes. I mean, uh…” A pause. “…maybe a little.”

She just snorts. “Well, I guess if that Hidan guy can…”

“Just don’t start _acting_ like Hidan,” Kisame snickers.

“Pshhh, _no_ ,” Obito rebukes, frowning. “What’d he do, anyway? I missed it.”

“He was just…being a jerk. And gross. A gross jerk,” Ryū explains.

“Oh…well, that’s Hidan for you.” It’s then the song on the jukebox changes, and Obito gasps. “Oh! Ohhh, I love this song!”

“What –?”

“C’mere!” Taking her hand, Obito drags her out into the middle of the space, spinning her around before taking a hand and hip in each of his own grips, swaying her back and forth.

“…uh –?”

“We are dancing!”

Ryū laughs. “Is that what you call this?”

“Shhh,” Obito insists, sparing a hand to press a finger to her lips, almost booping her nose by accident instead. “We are dancing. No talking. Just dancing.”

Rolling her eyes, Ryū acquiesces, doing her best to move along with Obito’s swaying, stumbling steps. After a minute or so, he switches his hold to each hip, snickering and snorting. Giving him a look, she reciprocates by looping both arms around his neck. Despite the faster pace of the song, they begin to slow…and then Obito puts his head on her shoulder, Ryū hiding her brow shyly against the crook of his neck. Kisame’s still in the room, after all.

“Ryū…do you like it here?”

“Here…specifically?”

“Here…at all. With me.”

Catching his meaning, she takes a moment to think. “…yes.”

“Really?!”

“Yes, really. Just…as long as Hidan’s not around.”

“Mm…yes, I can agree. He’s a bastard, but…good at what he does.”

Remembering the bloodstains on his pants, Ryū flinches, but doesn’t reply.

“And, uh…don’t listen to Konan, hm?”

“I wasn’t going to. I mean…I don’t know if I’m built for… _this_ ,” Ryū admits. “…but I think I can handle the parts I _do_ know.”

“Hm…good.” His hold on her tightens, and for a moment he sounds far more sober than just a second before. “…I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“…I know.”

* * *

Once again, Obito has gone off the radar. Granted, it’s only been two days…but he usually lets her know if he needs to go silent.

Part of her wonders if he’s off his meds again.

Thankfully, she now has Kisame’s number, and a quick text assures her he has his meds, but that he _has_ seemed a little… _off_ lately.

Making up her mind, Ryū sets back off toward his apartment. She now also has a spare key, and it’s been made clear to the locals she’s not to be messed with. Climbing the now–familiar stairs, Ryū knocks.

“…who is it?”

“Obito, it’s me. Can I come in?”

There’s a long moment of silence, and then, “…yeah.”

Brow furrowing, she uses her key before making her way in.

Nothing seems out of place. Obito’s sitting at his table, elbows braced atop it and staring blankly.

“…Obito…?”

No response.

Growingly worried, Ryū carefully takes the seat next to him, laying a hand on his shoulder. “…are you feeling all right…?”

“I…I don’t know.”

Her head tilts, considering him. “…can you describe what you feel?” Given how spacey he seems, she has a theory…but she doesn’t want to assume. Nor does she want to give him ideas if that’s not what’s going on.

“I feel…fuzzy.”

“Like you missed a dose?”

“No, like…like I’m not here. I feel…” He seems to struggle for words, and it’s hard not to offer some in the silence. “…disconnected.”

“Like you’re…outside your body?”

“…yeah, I guess. I feel numb. I feel…nothing.”

Well, she’s not a mental health expert, but… “Obito, it sounds like you’re have a depersonalization episode. How long have you felt like this?”

“…a few days? It’s…hard to tell. But…it happens every once in a while. It comes and goes…but there’s always…traces of it. It just seems to get worse.”

“Like now?”

“Yeah…like now.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

Slowly, he turns his head to look at her. “…just…stay with me?”

“Of course…I’ll stay as long as you need me to. Here…do you want to go sit on the couch?”

“…okay.”

Shadowing him and watching carefully, Ryū gives a start as Obito just…sits on the floor halfway there. “…uh –?”

“Here.”

A blink. “…okay.” She sits opposite him, wondering if she should start texting another nurse with questions of what else to do. But she doesn’t want to look like she’s not listening to him…

“Ryū?”

“Yes Obito?”

Rather than speak, he gestures like he wants her to get closer. Scooting, there’s a small yelp as he grabs her leg. “What –?”

Obito ignores her, and instead just starts…positioning her. He brings each of her legs up around his hips, his own going under and wrapping ankles around her backside. Once that’s done, he shimmies as close as he can get, and just…hugs himself to her. Rather tightly, too.

Eyes wide, there’s a long moment where Ryū freezes up, not sure what to do. But then she softens. His arms are around her rib cage, brow tucked into the crook of her shoulder. So, in turn, she grips around his neck, one hand reaching up and just…combing fingers through his hair along the rear of his skull, holding him close.

“…you smell good.”

“Thank you. I took a shower before I left,” she replies softly. Maybe…this is what he needs. Something to just…ground himself to. Use his senses, realize that he’s _here_ , now, with her. “Sorry if my hair is still a little wet.”

“No…it’s fine…”

For uncounted minutes, they just…sit. Silent. Ryū keeps up slow, gentle sweeps of fingers through his hair, cheek leaned against his temple with closed eyes.

It’s funny…she can’t remember the last time she felt this…relaxed. This peaceful.

This safe.

She almost starts dozing when Obito murmurs against her throat.

“…nothing feels real anymore, Ryū. It’s all so…foggy. Things change, but…they also stay the same. The same patterns. Same people. It’s like everything around me is just…spinning in a circle. It’s all a blur of the same black and white. And…the only time I _feel_ something…is when the adrenaline kicks in. When there’s a fight, or a raid, or a chase. Then I…I can feel my heart…! It starts racing, and my blood pumps, and there’s a pulse in my ears…! And I…I feel _alive…_!”

Eyes open and glancing into the dark locks of his hair, Ryū listens, silent.

“So I look for it. I look for that rush, that thrill, that _feeling_ …it’s all that makes things seem _real_ anymore. But Ryū, I…”

His grip tightens to a nearly painful degree, and Ryū has to fight the urge to grunt.

“…I look at you…or I touch you, see you, smell you…and I get that same feeling. My heart races, and my skin feels warm…I feel alive. I feel _alive_ when I’m with you…!”

Greys go wide, and tears spill without blinking down into his hair.

“And I…I love that. I love _you_. I love you so much that sometimes, it…it _scares_ me. What if you leave? What if I lose you? What if all I have left is the thrills of work? What if they fade? What if I never feel again? What if –?”

“Obito…”

He goes quiet.

Gently prying herself away from him with pushes against his shoulders – just enough to see his face – Ryū moves her hands to cradle his cheeks, eyes roving over his visage. There’s a fervid look in his own, but also flickers of other feelings: fear, uncertainty, and a boundless affection.

“…you’re not going to lose me,” she murmurs, thumbs brushing over his skin. “I’m going to be right here, whenever you need me. I’m always just a phone call away.” Carefully, she presses lips against his brow. “…I love you, too. I love you so much…and I worry about you. About your work, and your medicine, and…things like this. I want to help you. And I’ll do all I can. But…I’m not your cure, Obito. I’m a person. I’m glad that I make you happy, but I’m not a replacement for other things you need. I think…it would do you well to talk to someone. Someone who knows more about all of… _this_ than I do. I think it would help you.”

“I…I can’t…”

“Yes you can.”

“…can you come with me?”

“I…I don’t know. It would depend on what the doctor thinks. But if you want me to go, and I _can_ go, then I would. We wouldn’t have to talk about _everything_. Just the way you’re feeling, like right now. The rest you can keep to yourself. I just want you to be happy, Obito…and healthy. You don’t have to decide now…but you should think about it. Okay?”

“…okay.”

Part of her knows he won’t, but…at least they’ve discussed it. “…good…now, when was the last time you ate something?”

“I…I don’t know.”

She heaves a small sigh. “…we should get you something to eat. That might help. What sounds good?”

“…I don’t know.”

“…why don’t we go back to my place for today? You can come see Tenebris, and I can make you something good to eat. And you can just…stay with me for a while.” _Where I can keep an eye on you._

There’s a long silence. “…okay.”

As Obito slowly goes about gathering up supplies to stay overnight, Ryū shoots a text to Kisame, explaining her theory. He admits it makes sense, but cautions against anything that might cause him to rat himself out. She assures him they’ll be careful. _He needs help, Kisame. And I can only do so much._ _It might start affecting his work if it gets bad enough._

_You got it, little boss lady._

Once back at her place, Ryū makes a hearty meal, making sure Obito eats his fill, and then some. They pass the evening cuddled up watching TV…though she’s not sure he’s really paying attention. A shift the next day means needing to turn in early, and they curl up in bed at a decent hour.

“How are you feeling?”

“…better. A lot better. Just…still a little fuzzy.”

“You can stay here tomorrow if you want. I’ll text you whenever I get a chance.” She’ll feel better knowing where he’s at. “Maybe Kisame could come stay with you, if he’s not busy? Or maybe Zetsu?”

“…sure.”

Rolling over to look at him, Ryū strokes a thumb along his cheek, smiling softly. “…you’re going to be okay, Obito. I promise. Remember…I’m not going anywhere.”

“…thank you, Ryū.”

* * *

It’s the wee hours of the morning when she hears a loud sound from beyond her door.

Snapping awake and sitting up, Ryū freezes, listening. It sounded like someone kicked her front door in! Grabbing her phone, she prepares to dial 911, putting an ear to her door and listening.

There’s muffled, uneven footsteps, and then…something clatters over. A thump sounds, and then a cry.

“Ryū…!”

Heart in her throat, she recognizes Obito’s voice. “Obito?!” Wrenching the door open, she finds him collapsed in the entryway of her apartment. The doorknob is stuck into the drywall from the force of being swung open, and the wood bowl she keeps her keys in atop a table by the door is on the floor.

A flick of a light switch reveals more.

Blood is smeared down the wall leading to where Obito’s collapsed. He’s pale, shaking, and looks woozy.

A moment passes with her staring in shock…and then she spins around and goes into the bathroom, washing her hands before pulling out a large box. She’s been slowly building up a stash of swiped medical supplies for just this very reason. Skidding back into the main room, she kneels beside him with the box. “What happened?”

“Got jumped…asshole with a k–knife. Biggest wound is…is in my back…”

Able to tell as much given the blood on her wall, Ryū carefully sits him up. There’s a hole in his coat over his left shoulder. “I need to take your coat and shirt off.”

After some finagling (and many a stifled yell of pain from Obito), they get him bare. A few cuts lace his arms, bleeding sluggishly. But most worrying is the stab wound in his back. Thankfully it’s not arterial bleeding – just venous.

Digging through her box, Ryū takes out a box of hemostatic gauze, pressing several squares atop the wound. “Here…lean back against the wall to hold that. I need to look at your arms.”

Doing as asked, Obito pants lightly, watching her move. Most of the cuts she simply cleans before placing more of the hemostatic gauze on (with neosporin) and wrapping it into place. But one she warns, “I need to stitch this up.”

Taking out a needle and dousing it in rubbing alcohol, she threads it before carefully pulling the wound closed bit by bit. Obito grits his teeth with a few moans of agitation, but otherwise handles it well. Another cleaning, and then more gauze and wrapping before she has him lean forward again. The bleeding’s slowed a great deal from his back. “…okay. Obito, this is going to require a more thorough cleaning. But I don’t want you breaking up the clot. I need you to very carefully get to the bathroom. We’ll get you in the shower, and I’ll wash it there.”

Nodding, he lets her help him shift, moving alongside him until they’re in the shower. Taking great care, she first rinses the wound (and the blood from his back) with warm water. Once he’s clean, she goes in with saline to wash out the wound itself. Thankfully it looks clean – no debris. Once that’s done, she pats him dry with a towel, adding more antibiotic, gauze, and wrapping it all up tightly to keep it sealed.

By now, he’s gained a bit of color back into his face, but not enough for her liking. “Come on…you need to eat something so your body can start making more blood, and clotting. And we need to get you hydrated.”

Ever so carefully, she helps him to the kitchen, sitting him down and going through her fridge. He’s going to need iron, and several vitamins for absorption, coagulating, and fueling new cells. Taking out some chicken she was going to cook tomorrow, she starts pan frying it, cutting up a few fruits and vegetables she has stocked up.

And of course, she gets him a big glass of water.

“Here.”

Without a word, he starts drinking, nibbling the fruits and veggies as he watches her cook. There’s blood all over her nightgown, and some still smeared on her arms and legs.

Once she’s sure the meat’s well–cooked, she hands him that on a plate, too. “Eat.”

“Yes ma’am,” he replies quietly, glancing to her as she sits.

“You need the iron. The rest will help with taking it in. Once you’re done, I want you to sleep in the big chair I’ve got in the living room. I want that wound kept above your heart, and the weight off your back as best we can manage.”

Obito just nods, mouth full.

For now, she’s still in business mode. Too antsy to sit still, Ryū moves and starts cleaning up the blood.

Thankfully, that’s something she’s well–versed in.

Once that’s done and she checks on Obito, she looks herself over as he notes, “I think you’re next.”

…it’s been a while since she’s been this bloody. Let alone with the blood of someone she knows…and cares about…

_“I gotta stop the blood!”_

_“There’s nothing to do, kid…she’s gone.”_

_“No! The blood – I gotta stop – mommy!”_

“Ryū?”

Looking up with wide eyes, it takes her a moment to pull out of the memory completely. Breath shaking in her lungs, she gives a harsh swallow. “…I’ll go shower. Keep eating.”

“But –”

“Keep. Eating.”

Watching her go, Obito looks back to the food. He’s lost his appetite. But an order’s an order.

Standing in the water, Ryū holds her face in her hands, trembling and struggling to keep her breath even. In all her years of schooling, of working…that memory’s never surfaced before. Everything from that day has always been so blurry…but…

_He’s going to be fine. It’ll be a while. But he’s alive. He’s alive, Ryū. Snap **out** of it…!_

Taking a deep breath, she holds it until her head starts swimming, exhaling slowly. Then she reaches for the soap, watching the water run pink until it’s clear.

The nightgown she tosses in the sink with an entire bottle of hydrogen peroxide. It bubbles and turns pink before she washes the fabric by hand in the hottest water she can stand. Draped over the shower rod, it seems good enough. She’ll look closer in the morning.

Clean, calm, and wrapped up in her robe, she emerges from the bathroom, finding Obito in the chair in her living room. It’s big, soft, and should be fine to sleep in. Gods know she’s spent enough nights in it by accident. “…how do you feel? Dizzy? Numbness anywhere?”

“No…I’m fine.”

“Did you eat –?”

“I’m fine, Ryū. Really. I’ve been through worse.”

Jaw clenching against a deluge of words she wants to vomit, she instead moves to sit on the couch beside him. “…tired?”

“Very.”

“I can sleep out here if you want.”

“No…you get into bed. No sense in us both being out here when you’ve got a perfectly good mattress.”

“I’ve slept in worse places for worse reasons. It’s just one night. I want to be right here if you need me.”

Obito gives her a look…but then softens. “…all right.”

Snuggling up in the corner, she manages to lean her head against the arm of the chair. A hand reaches and rests atop his, fingers weaving and giving a squeeze. “…I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Yeah…me too.”

Only a few minutes later, he’s out like a light. Wide awake, Ryū watches him breathe, eyes flickering over him before beginning to water. Her jaw shakes, breath quickening until she’s lost in quiet sobs, keeping her hold on his hand.

Eventually, she passes out, cheeks tear–stained and rest uneasy. And still, she holds his hand.

Mid–morning, she snaps awake, sitting up in a rush and then collapsing, dizzy. A glance over shows that Obito’s left the chair. A once–over and a feel show no blood where he’d been sitting – nothing leaked in the night.

Tightening her robe’s tie, she checks the bathroom before moving into the kitchen.

And then she stares.

Bent over the counter, Obito takes a deep breath, moving his nostril along a line of white powder atop the granite.

Too taken aback to react, Ryū just watches.

Finishing the line, Obito looks up, noticing her and tensing. Coughing, he doubles over, and she panics – he might tear open the wound!

“Easy, easy!” Rushing over and holding him, she keeps one hand over the gauze. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. Are you okay?”

Once the coughing subsides, Obito clears his throat, sniffling. “I…I’m sorry, I didn’t – you weren’t supposed to –”

“It’s okay, Obito.” She knows well enough snorting gets the drug into the system faster. And given not only his past wounds, but current ones, she can’t blame him for needing relief faster than usual. “Are you all right…?”

“Fine, fine…I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing. Any pain? Did anything bleed last night?” She takes his arms, looking them over critically. Several have a bit of weeping through the gauze, and all need changing.

“Nothing worse than you’d expect. I think everything’s still sealed up.”

“Okay…let’s get the gauze changed. You better text Kisame, because you are _not_ leaving this apartment until you’re more healed up. I don’t want you tearing any of these open.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Ryū gives him a look. “And stop calling me ma’am.”

“Yes my lady.”

She makes a face, and he laughs. “…well, at least you feel well enough to do that.”

“I’m home with my _dame_ , and she’s pampering me and my wounds…what’s there to be miserable about?”

Snorting at Kisame’s preferred archaic term, Ryū just sits him down to start tending him. “…that’s one way to look at it.”

* * *

“Hey! We’re going out for pizza and drinks – you wanna come?”

Looking up from her bag, Ryū hesitates for a moment. “Oh…sorry girls, I’ve got work to get done tomorrow afternoon. I better get home and sleep.”

“Aw, all right. See you next weekend, Sugar!”

Waving with a smile, Ryū finishes changing out of her stage wear and into a blouse and skirt. It’s been a long night, but at least she made good tips. Now all she wants to do is get home, and collapse into bed. It’s also been over a week since she’s seen Obito…maybe she’ll text him. Slinging her duffle bag over her shoulder, she navigates through her phone to start a query text. Maybe he can stop by to see her tomorrow morning. Well… _this_ morning. It’s almost three am, after all. A shoulder pushes open the rear door, fingers flicking over the screen as she makes her way out toward the sidewalk. The Uber she called should be here any minute, she’d better –

With a crash, something knocks her head against the brick of the building. Eyes filled with stars and half–blinded with pain, Ryū collapses, clutching her phone and trying to catch herself on the exterior wall. Her legs are jelly, and she barely manages to bat at hands that start working her over.

“Hey…h–hey!”

A fist collides with her jaw, earning a cry. There’s the sound of tearing fabric as she’s dragged out into the floor of the alley, and it’s like a jolt to the brain as cool evening air washes over her now–bare stomach.

She’s being assaulted.

Immediately, she gives another cry, kicking her legs and slapping with her hands. It’s dark, she can’t see anything beyond a silhouette towering over her. If only she was wearing her jacket…her knife is in her pocket! Lips crash against hers, silencing her cries as a tongue invades her mouth, teeth on her lip. Calloused hands grip and squeeze her breasts, breath panting hot and thick against her mouth. Fingers dig into her hips, trying to get a hold of the band of her skirt –

Then there’s the dull, meaty sound of a foot against a chest. The weight disappears off her, and Ryū instinctively scrambles backward, trying to hold up the shreds of her clothes…and with them, those of her dignity. Tucked up against the wall, she struggles to see.

Another person enters the fray – huge, and clearly tensed for a fight as the perpetrator regains his footing. There’s a snick, and distant street light reflects off a knife.

“Look out!”

Swinging the blade, the assailant is dodged, and a fist digs into his gut. Air gasps, forced from lungs, and he doubles over. But before he can be hit again, he digs the knife into her savior’s nearer calf.

A roar of pain, and he falls to a knee as the would–be rapist struggles to his feet, fleeing out into the street with a limp and a wheeze.

Breath shaking in shock, Ryū stares for a moment, then thinks to get a light. Fumbling her phone, ignoring the now–cracked screen from its drop, she turns on its light, holding it up and finally seeing her ally.

“Kisame!”

“L…lady boss,” he grunts.

“H…here, let me –”

“I’m fine…are you all right?”

“…y–yeah. He didn’t – I wasn’t –” She cuts off with a harsh swallow. “Y–your leg…”

“I’ve had worse. C’mon…we need to get you out of here.”

“Let me see your leg!”

“It’s not –”

“Let me see!”

Heaving a huff of humorless laughter, he does as asked, shifting to sit and direct the limb to her. “…you’re the boss.”

Peeling back his pant leg, she finds a shallow, bleeding cut. Reaching into her bag, shaking hands dig out gauze – she never goes anywhere without the means to patch a wound. Pressing it in, she tries to wrap it, dropping the roll as her hands refuse to obey and swearing.

“Here…” Ever so gently, Kisame pries her hands away, finishing the patch job himself. “I’ve done this more times than I can count. Don’t you worry your pretty little head now, Ryū.”

There’s a glance up – it’s the first time he’s called her by her name. Shaking as shock sets in, she watches as he secures the bindings, bringing the hole–riddled material of his pants back down to his ankle.

“There, see? Right as –”

With a cry, Ryū launches herself forward, collapsing against Kisame’s chest. For a moment he tenses as she sobs into his shirt front, only to soften and pull her close, shielding her from the alleyway with his bulk. “…hey…it’s all right. You’re safe now. Come on, let’s get you home. I’ll have Obito meet us.”

Helping her to her feet, Kisame sends word via text before easily scooping her up. Her Uber still hasn’t arrived, and he clearly has no intention of waiting. By now, he knows well enough where she lives, and quietly carries her the dozen or so blocks on foot.

All the while, Ryū hides in his chest, shaking and sobbing. Fingers find a death grip against his shirt until knuckles go white, curled up in his arms.

Every so often he gives her a worried glance before looking back up, expression set like stone.

When they reach the proper building, Obito’s outside, leaning against the entryway. He jumps up as they approach, jogging a few paces before slowing to a stop. “…what…?”

“Let’s get her inside, first. Then we can talk.”

Gaze dropping from Kisame’s face to Ryū, Obito’s look of worry shifts to muffled anger. “…right.”

They reach the proper apartment, Kisame gently setting her down. “…you should have a shower. It might help you feel, er…clean.”

Hugging herself, Ryū gives a shaking nod.

“We’re both right outside. Nothing’s gonna get anywhere near you.”

“…I know…t–thank you.”

Watching her go, Obito waits until the door closes to wheel on him. “I thought I told you to keep an eye on her?!”

“I was! But she went out a back door – by the time I got around, he –”

“Who?”

“Some asshole. I got a few hits in before he shanked my leg. Odds are he hasn’t gotten far. I’d guess I cracked at least a few ribs.”

“…did he –?”

“No…but it came close.” Kisame gestures to the door. “…you saw the state of her clothes. I would have been here sooner, but she insisted on patching me up first. That woman, I swear…”

Obito takes to pacing. Fire alights in his blood, burning away the typical fog. This… _this_ is what he told Ryū about. The thrill of a hunt. “…did you see what way he went?”

“West.”

“…stay here with her. Do whatever she wants, but don’t let her leave. I’m gonna wipe that _osti d'chien sale_ off the face of the earth. _Slowly_.”

“You got it, boss.”

Stalking out of the apartment, Obito wastes no time in retracing steps back toward the club. Kisame managed to give a basic description…that and the wounds he gave him should be enough to ID the prick. Finding the alley, he looks for any clues, seeing the small puddle of blood from Kisame’s wound, and a few shreds of fabric now missing from Ryū’s shirt.

_Let the hunt begin._

Back at the apartment, Ryū stands in the stream of hot water, steam curling up toward the ceiling. Her skin is red, unnoticed as she dissociates. Eventually a hand slowly lifts to gingerly touch her head where it connected with the brick. She can’t help a wince at a flare of pain. There’s some blood, skin having been roughly torn against the rugged surface. Carefully, she washes out the red stain from colorless locks, which eases her into washing everything else. There’s fingerprint bruises on her rib cage, chest, and hips where he wrestled her down, and another along her jaw where he clocked her. But nothing’s broken, and beyond the scrape of her scalp, no open wounds.

…then why does she feel so… _soiled_?

Soap passes over her skin again and again, cloth rubbing until its raw. Then she stands in the water, head bowed in it and letting it run down her back.

She hardly feels it.

An hour passes before she finally emerges, putting on her stashed pajamas and her robe. Peering out, she sees Kisame sitting on the couch, leaned forward with elbows on his knees. Lips are braced against woven fingers, and he glances up as the door opens. “…how you feel?”

For a moment, she doesn’t answer, moving silently out of the hot bathroom and into the relatively cool belly of the apartment. Tucking herself next to him, she murmurs, “…like a ghost.”

“…Ryū, I’m so sorry, I –”

“Don’t…you’re the only reason I got out of that without him…without…” She can’t bring herself to say it. “…he might have killed me. You saved my life.”

“Still…I shoulda –”

She silences him with a dainty, gentle hand on his forearm. “…thank you.”

“…any time.”

“…where’s Obito?”

“Where do you think?”

To his surprise, she doesn’t react. “…are you staying?”

“Yeah. As long as I need to.”

“…I’ll make us some tea.”

In the meantime, Obito’s been scouring the streets. It’s nearly sunup now, and he’d like to have this over and done with before it gets too light out. So far he’s only found one person who’s seen the perpetrator in question, giving him a general direction, but not much else.

A few blocks later, however…he gets lucky.

“– telling you man, I think he broke my fuckin’ ribs! My chest is on fire, I can barely breathe. Fuckin’ asshole’s gonna –”

“Excuse me…”

Looking up with a snap, the stranger glares at him suspiciously. “…who t’fuck are you?”

“That doesn’t matter. What _does_ matter…is that you fucked up. Royally.” From out of his loose coat sleeve drops a metal baseball bat, thunking hollowly against the alley floor as he grips its handle.

Fear glints in the other man’s eyes. “W–what the fuck, man – I –?”

“You touched something that wasn’t yours.” Obito takes a step, and his foe takes one in retreat. “You put your hands on a woman that wanted nothing to do with you.” Step forward. Step back. “And now…I’m gonna make you feel just as scared, and as small, and as violated as you made her feel. And then? Once you’re nice and bloody and beaten, once I think you’ve suffered enough…I’m gonna kill you.”

“S–shit dude, I – I–I didn’t know she had a man, I just –”

“You just what?”

Trying to back up, he hits a haphazard stack of junk, falling over with a cry and a clatter. Scrambling backwards against the refuse, he stares at the bat. “S–she’s a stripper, man! I thought, y–y’know –”

“What? You thought what? She owed you something? She’s a piece of meat you can rub your grimy fucking mitts all over and have your way with? Newsflash, asshole: she’s a person. And not only that, she’s the nearest and dearest thing to my heart. And now she’s got bruises in the shape of your fingerprints. You have any idea how angry that makes me?”

“…p–please…”

“That makes me _real fucking angry_.” There’s a wide, animalistic shape to Obito’s eyes, staring down at his prey. He’s practically giddy with excitement. When was the last time he got to beat the shit out of something? _Someone?_

And he’s going to _enjoy_ this one. Take it nice…and slow.

Shaking, hiccuping and whimpering, the man holds up an unsteady arm, the other still clutching his ribs. Already Obito can see him wetting himself in terror.

Good.

“L–look man, I’ll…I’ll give you whatever you want. Money, d–drugs, uh…a–anything! Please, just…please don’t do this…”

“Sorry, pal…” Gripping the handle of the bat and bringing it up behind his head, Obito lets a wide smile overtake his face. “…she’s not for sale.”

_WHACK._

At ten am, Kisame gives a small jolt at the sound of a key scraping a lock. Glancing around, he takes in the living room of Ryū’s apartment before looking down. He dozed off atop the couch, and Ryū’s curled up on the cushions next to him. Tenebris lays in the curve of her middle, purring and squinting.

A hand rubs over his face with a sigh as Obito opens the door. His coat’s missing, and his hair’s wet. Seems he ditched the bloodstained garb and washed his face.“…how’d it go?” he asks quietly, not wanting to wake her.

“Brilliantly. You should have heard him begging, Kisame. So pathetic…made it all the more satisfying to shut him up. Human garbage. _Criss de cave_.”

“And the cleanup?”

“Hidan’s already on it. He seemed delighted to get the call.”

“Oh, I’m sure he was…”

It’s then Obito finally looks to Ryū, softening a bit. “…how is she?”

“Fell asleep about an hour ago, or so. We sat and had some tea…she didn’t really say anything. Just…stared. Tried turning on the TV, but I don’t think she really watched. Once she passed out, I turned it off for some quiet. So far, seems she’s actually resting. No twitching, no mumbling. I’ll take that as a sign she’s not having any nightmares…yet.”

“Hm…well, you can go. I’m sure you’re tired.”

“You sure?”

“I can take it from here. Go rest. And Kisame…” Obito hesitates as his friend carefully stands, pausing to look at him. “…I’m sorry. I…yelled at you earlier, and…that was wrong. You did what you could. What I wasn’t there to do.”

“It’s all right, boss. You were upset. Rightfully so. I’ll do better next time. But uh…you better have a talk with her.”

“Hn…”

Clapping a hand on Obito’s shoulder, Kisame nods gravely before taking his leave.

Debating his options, Obito eventually takes his place on the couch. A hand carefully brushes hair from her face, seeing the swelling along her jaw.

…he just hopes the bastard suffered enough to make up for what he did.

The touch, however, rouses her with a small sound. Greys open blearily, blinking slowly as she sits up. “…’bito…?”

“Hey…”

Adjusting herself, Ryū leans against him gently, clearly still exhausted. “…what time is it…?”

“Mid morning. How do you feel?”

“I…had a headache, but took some painkillers. It still stings a bit but…I don’t have a concussion. Otherwise I’m just…tired. And…I feel a little…off.”

Obito studies her face. “…off?”

“…I think I know what you mean now. About…the fog. It’s just…having trouble sinking in. I’m okay, and…I’ll _be_ okay. I just feel…hollow.”

Sighing, Obito brings her closer to his side, arms gripping her firmly. “…I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“No, but –”

“Kisame saved me. I’m…shaken up, but I’m not badly hurt. I’m not dead. Just…” She heaves her own sigh, which shakes. “…it’s going to be a while before I…feel normal again. Though anymore…I don’t even know what _normal_ is.”

“Neither do I.”

“…is he dead?”

Obito hesitates a moment. “…yes.”

“…I see.”

“Are you angry?”

“No…I guess I’m a little relieved, as bad as that might be. He can’t hurt anyone else…”

“Or you.”

“…or me.”

“…what can I do, Ryū?”

“…for right now, just…just sit with me. I’m…going to call off of work for…a day or two. Tell them I’m sick. No need to report what happened. You took care of that.”

“Hn…”

Breathing softly, Ryū stares out at nothing for a time, the pair of them sitting silently. “…just another mask to put on…isn’t it?”

He gives a questioning glance.

“…one that says I’m okay.” She’s finally learning they aren’t the only ones with masks. And sometimes, you have more than one, depending on the day, the company, the feeling.

“…you _will_ be okay.”

“…yeah. Someday. But for now…”

“You don’t have to wear that mask around me.”

“No…I don’t. Nor do you.” She looks up at him, expression oddly lucid. “…we don’t have to hide. Not from each other. We see it all. The good, the bad…” A hint of a smile lifts her lips. “…and the beautiful.”

**Author's Note:**

> OOF, okay, this is the longest one-piece fic I've...ever done. And holy mother of content warnings, Batman xD So this came about after a very lengthy RP between Obito and my Ryū that introduced this universe. Meg actually commissioned me to write this monster of a fic after that thread wrapped up! So...if you'd like more background, you'll have to read that thread, lol - and as a gentle reminder, all posts to this account are reflective of RP that happens on Tumblr. The ship in this piece has been RPed for about 2+ years at this point!
> 
> Anyway, this fic was...a ride xD I don't write modern much, let alone several of the themes in this fic. But it was actually REALLY fun to write. I don't do dark themes too often, so it was neat to mess around with and get into the nitty-gritty of this verse. And I think it turned out pretty good overall! There's a lot of minor characters in here I'd either never written, or very rarely written, so...I dunno how well I did, but I tried! I guess at the end of the day, Meg liked it, and...that's really what matters lol


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